


When Darkness Creeps Upon

by MaydayMarbear



Category: Original Work
Genre: poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 03:46:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9581912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaydayMarbear/pseuds/MaydayMarbear
Summary: Poems





	

We are shooting Stars, soaring across the sky, traveling from distant worlds, seeing it differently from our eyes. We are shining stars, traveling through distant worlds, seeing every grain of sand, as sparkling white pearls. We look up at the stars in the night, traveling to the other side of the distant sky, wanting to see what is beyond the stars, hoping we can go that high. When the darkness creeps upon, and we are flying 'til dawn, we are stars, not worthless, the moon illuminates us in this darkness.

 

As the room gets darker, and my vision goes out, all i hear is laughter, and I shout, "Why do I try if all I do is die?! When it comes to next day, I will make you pay!”

 

Oh the things I say, the things I tell them, the things I forget to mention. Oh the things I do, the things I want, the things I forget to act upon.

 

I am not afraid of embarrassing myself, of heights nor darkness; I am afraid  of what I don’t know. Because I don’t know how high, I don’t know if I’ll survive the night, I don’t know who or what may be lurking in the shadows, I don’t know how others will react. There is another side of this, of course. There is ‘I don’t remember’. I don’t remember where I left the flashlight, I don’t remember if I locked the doors, I don’t remember your instructions, I don’t remember hurting you.

 

It’s always worth it if it’s right for you. It’s always worth it if you really want it. It’s always worth keeping appearances around you. Because I need to keep you around the fantasy, to protect you from the harsh reality. It’s not worth the trouble to tell you. It’s not worth the trouble to say, “I love you.” You should already know I do.

 

I’m a lucky duckling, wouldn’t you agree? My life is amazing, at just the right degree. I’m surrounded by many, yet... Why do I feel so lonely? I guess I’m a miserable duckling, who has done wrong and who has done right. I guess I’m a weak little duckling, without a bit of might. I guess I am such a lucky duckling to even be in your sight.

 

Light, Dark. Love, Hate. Life, Death. Continuously inconspicuous to our mortal eyes, the circle we are trapped within. Maybe one day, you will all see the light hidden in the darkness; See the love through the hate; See the life through the death. Maybe one day, you will be the one to free us of our eternal suffering. However, I wonder if you even want to be free.

 

Sitting alone, daydreaming. Along walks a boy I know. He strikes me. I scream. No one helps me. The boy apologizes and walks away. Everyone else continues with their daily lives as I fall. No one cares about me; No one cares if someone they know is brought down. They will only care if I drag them down with me.

 

On a dark and stormy night, a young Enchantress was messing around in her laboratory. As she mixed the chemicals, she wondered if she could do more. The Enchantress turns on her computer, and writes a story, creates a program, and put them together. The Enchantress sighs, “I’ve created life, even if it is but an imaginary one.”

 

I’ve created a monster. It’s follows my every step. It watches my every move. It knows my strengths and my weaknesses. It knows who I am, or rather, who I was. Once, I ran from it, but it managed to keep up. Once, I tried to reason with it, but it wouldn’t listen. I’ve done something horrible. I’ve created a monster, and that monster is me.

 

My memories are fading... My life is dissipating... My love has left my side, and my enemy cries... Will I be missed by those I love? Or only will those I have treated wrong come to my rescue? If only they knew I was right here. If only they knew I saw what they did, and heard what they said. If only, I tried a little harder, maybe I would want to be saved...

 

In the span of time we live out our lives, I have grown weary, and you have grown strong. I am scared, and you are brave. I have become the selfish, and you have become the selfless. In this short span of time before our departure, I looked over what we used to be. I used to be timid, and you, oh, so bold. I used to be brave, and, in comparison, you used to be psychotic. I used to be selfless, and you were so selfish. As my span of time comes to a close, I cherish the good you and I have done together, and wish we could return to the days that time was our toy.

 

Watch your words. Think before you speak. For your words cut deeper than the sharpest knife, and last until the end of time.

 

        I am a flower. As time goes on, I grow in beauty and grace; But if left unattended, if abandoned, then I grow out of control. I slowly take over and dominate; I slowly kill off the competition; I slowly destroy what you worked so hard on, if only to get your attention. Yet, you just cut me down. I can be replaced, for I am only a flower.

 

      Within our little town, dwelled a Witch. We were considered an abomination because of her, and this caused many conflicts. We were afflicted with formidable problems. We then turned to the Gods, hoping for a savior. We called out... But instead of a savior, we got our punishment. What a wicked Witch, we thought to our last. The Witch got the cruelest and most horrific departure, because that was what we wanted. We never knew how kind she was, we never knew how beautiful she was, nor did we ever know how innocent she truly was. We never knew how cruel we were. When the youngest of our ghostly faction said they talked to the Witch, we tuned out the child when they said the Witch was crying. We never listened. When the day of judgement came for us to go beyond, we were cast aside. Those that sided with the Witch were put first. What a wicked Witch, we thought to our last.

 

“Meow,” says the alley cat. “Bark,” says the stray dog. “Squeak,” says the white mouse. “Croak,” says the Bullfrog. “Tweet,” says the Blue jay. “Help me!” cries a lost child. “Nope,” says the mockingbird. The alley cat stops meowing, the stray dog stops barking, the white mouse stops squeaking, the bullfrog stops croaking, the Blue jay stops tweeting. The child screams. All the animals run away. The mockingbird laughs as the lost child falls down. The white mouse cautiously looks for the child. All he can find is a trail of red. Confused, he asks the cat for help to find the lost child. All the cat can find are pieces of shredded cloth. The white mouse and alley cat ask the dog for help. All the stray dog can find are bones. The three of them ask the frog for help. The bullfrog leads them to a river stained red, with shreds of cloth, and littered with bones. They ask the Blue jay for help to find the lost child. He finds the child downstream, clothing in shreds and missing limbs. They all ask the mockingbird to help the child out of the water. She just laughs. “Nope. Didn’t help before, won’t help now!” The mockingbird laughs and laughs. BOOM. Something streaks across the sky and hits the mockingbird; someone heard a voice, and didn’t want ANY witnesses.

 

Love at first sight? Give me a break, you’re just trying to catch me slipping up. You can’t stand to be away? Don’t make me laugh, that’s just another excuse to get out of class. You want to protect me? Go ahead, but I’m not responsible for your injuries. Y-you hate me?  Oh, what have I done... Now who will protect me? Now who will stand at my side? If you don’t love me, then how can I love myself? I guess, I guess I’ll just pretend I don’t care. I guess I’ll pretend I don’t see you glare and my friends stare. I guess I’ll sit alone. You don’t care... So why should I? After all, it was love at first sight. I couldn’t stand to be away. I wanted you to protect me. Every time you say you hate me, I hate myself twice as much, but I can never hate you. You want to apologize?  Don’t be silly. All you have to say is that you no longer hate me, and everything will be alright. You love me? I love you, too.

 

         I write poem after poem, line after line, word after word. “They are light, happy poems,” I say, as I show them off. “They are what I think of myself and the world,” I say as they read the darkness I have created.


End file.
